Holiday Greetings from In Becky's Words

 

I didn't send out Christmas cards this year. I didn't get around to it. 

 

I'm sure many folks were waiting with bated breath for my annual form letter, as one does. If you count yourself among the disappointed ones, this blog post is for you. 

 

Even if you were relieved to have one less family Christmas letter to read, this post is also for you. 

Welcome to Becky's Holiday Update.

 

AT SCHOOL

Every year, I take my classes caroling around the school building on the last day before winter break. It evolved out of the question, "What can I do with my classes this close to the break, and how can I preserve my sanity at the same time?" 

It has since become an annual tradition at my school. 

Last year, school was virtual, and we had to skip a year. This year, the sixth graders begged to help take the younger classes caroling. 

 

This was the group of kids who, when they were in third grade, came caroling with me in the morning, and I later found them caroling around the playground during recess.

In other words, they loved caroling and, as sixth graders, this was their last chance. I made arrangements with their teachers, and they joined my first and third grade classes. 

And let me tell you, these big kids were so cute and sweet with the littles. It was one of the most rewarding moments of my week.

 

  

CHRISTMAS EVE

Two days later, it was Christmas Eve. My husband, Dan, and I went jogging in the morning, before I was due at Christmas Eve rehearsals and services.

 

CHRISTMAS DAY

Not too long ago, I wrote about my rock star aspirations 

 

My Christmas gift from Dan put me one step closer to reaching this goal as a middle-aged music teacher.

 

 

Of course, I'm telling everyone it's for school. In reality, the kids are going to have to fight Mrs. Duggan for a chance to play. 

 

(Disclaimer: I'm kidding. I don't fight children.)

 

The snowman advent calendar told us it was Christmas Day, which meant one thing this year.

 

We were going to see Hamilton!  

If you have been reading this blog for a while, you might remember we saw Hamilton twice, within two weeks of each other, during its Northwest tour in Portland and Salt Lake City. We love it that much. 

This year, it came to Boise, after being rescheduled (for reasons I'm sure you can guess), and we were able to see it live for a third time . . . on Christmas day. 

 

Best. Present. Ever.

 

It was absolutely amazing once again. We spent the day after Christmas listening to the Original Broadway Cast Album, and we will probably watch it on Disney+ again sometime this week.

Seriously. It's. So. Good.

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Anniversary Weekend Fun

It's anniversary time once again! 

 

 

Technically, our anniversary is today, but we celebrated it over the weekend. I still have three days of school left before break, and I need to be alert and ready for anything. Anyone who is or has been a teacher at this time of the year knows what I'm talking about. 

 

When Dan and I got married eighteen years ago, the minister told us to be prepared to never celebrate our anniversary on the actual day, especially since we were getting married so close to Christmas. (And being a musician/music teacher at this time of the year compounds the craziness of the season tenfold.) 

Fun fact: The minister married us on his anniversary. He was speaking from experience.

This year, Dan and I, both of us fully vaccinated and boosted, actually went out for our anniversary. 

 

Here are some of our anniversary weekend highlights.

 

We ate at our favorite downtown restaurant, the same one Dan took me to the night he proposed, and ordered our special dessert. It has been our dessert tradition for eighteen years now.

 

We walked downtown and took our obligatory anniversary photo in front of the tree on the Grove. (We probably have eighteen of these.) There was a hockey game at the arena, but I think we blocked out most of the people standing in line.

Then we saw All Is Calm, a theater production about the Christmas Truce of 1914 during World War I. It was a beautiful joint venture between our local opera and one of the professional theater companies.

 

The theater looks empty, but we were early. It was a packed house.

 

We ended the night with a drive through a couple of neighborhoods. We looked at Christmas lights while listening to a "Best Indie Alternative Rock Christmas" playlist on Spotify. 

 

We're still Gen-Xers after all.

 

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Thanksgiving Cookin'

This Thanksgiving, we didn't cook a turkey. I'm a (mostly) vegetarian anyway, but I will cook a turkey on Thanksgiving (preferably from a farm with environmentally and animal friendly practices) if it's just the two of us. 

 

But this year, my husband, Dan, and I were out of town until that Wednesday, and on Thanksgiving morning, we ran in a Turkey Day 5K. There wasn't enough time to defrost and cook a turkey.

 

Dan was on call at his work for the holiday, which meant I finally had a chance to make my mother's Thanksgiving dishes since I was the only cook in the kitchen.

 

We started the morning with the raspberry coffee cake my mother would get from Albertsons. No cooking required, my favorite kind of dish. 

 

To my surprise and delight, this particular coffee cake still exists. It's been over twenty years.

 

 

Of course in true Becky Let's-Get-This-Over-With fashion, I figured I would throw everything together Thanksgiving day, and I didn’t look at the recipes ahead of time. 

 

Some of the directions included things like “chill overnight” or “let rise for 3-5 hours,” and I just ignored all of that the best I could.

 

When I was getting ready to put the salad together, I realized I had a can of bamboo shoots instead of water chestnuts. 

 

I sent Dan to the grocery to pick up the correct ingredient. (Not to throw him under the bus or anything, but Dan had done all of the grocery shopping that week. Just sayin' . . .)

 

 

Next, I overflowed the broth and raw egg mixture for the cornbread dressing, unleashing a potential cesspool of salmonella all over the kitchen counter. 

 

That was totally my bad. But Dan cleaned that mess up for me too.
 

I, on the other hand, yelled, "I HAVE TO GO MEDITATE NOW!" and left him to do all of the cleaning.

 

Despite a few unhinged moments and some halfhearted preparation, I did end up with successful dishes from my mother's Thanksgiving menu. I added veggie sausage to her dressing recipe, turning it into an entree, since I didn't cook a turkey. 

 

Mom's Seven Layered Salad

 

Mom's Cornbread Dressing

 

I made it through without burning anything down. So there's that.

 

But all of that cooking left me exhausted, and I wondered if it was worth making that much food for just the two of us.

 

 

I decided it was when I didn't have to cook for the next three days. Funny how everything tasted better as leftovers.

 

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

My Rock Star Aspirations

Little known fact: What I really want to do is ROCK!

 

 

 

Alas, I am classically trained and have not had many opportunities to be a rock star. But occasionally, I like to pretend.

 

One Halloween, I dressed up like one for school. I mean, I am the music teacher. It totally made sense.

 

 

 

In high school, I performed with a pop/rock/jazz group. I even sang back up on the Pat Benatar song, "Heartbreaker."

 

Listening back to the lyrics, I am kind of surprised they let us sing this in the public schools.

 

 

I've played Florence twice in the musical Chess. She sort of rocks out during the course of the show. The first time I was in it, my husband, Dan, said I reminded him of Stevie Nicks, which seems unlikely. The second time I did the show, I flipped off Freddie at the end of one of the songs in order to add to my rock star persona. 

 

Yeah, I'm super proud of that.

 

 

 

Whenever, I play guitar at school, the kids think I'm a rock star. Surely, that counts for something.

 

I tried to form a band with two other teachers at my school a few years ago. We had one really good rehearsal of Simon and Garfunkel's "Only Living Boy in New York."

 

I also play a mean "Shake It Off" for my students every year.

 

Channeling Lisa Loeb, yet singing Taylor Swift

I recently played cajón for my church's treble choir. It was my first time playing for adults, and there was a guitarist and pianist . . . like a real band.

I was way more excited about this than I needed to be, and I texted my dad. Here's how that went [insert facepalm here]:

Me: I got to play cajón last Sunday. I'm officially a drummer now.

Dad: Drummers wear shades.
Me: Only when they're stoned.

 

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

That One Day I Was Young and Cool

One day, a couple of weeks ago, I received a few ego boosts. This school year, I go home most days wondering if I even remember how to manage a classroom. But this particular day, I finished my day feeling pretty good about myself. 

 

My day started with my students asking, "How do you sing that so fast?!" 

 

We had just sung an opening song, the tongue twister "Hagdalena Magdalena."
 

"I’ve been practicing it for over twenty years," I answered.

"You’re older than twenty?" one of the fifth graders asked.

"I've been teaching twenty years, so yes."

"You look twenty-five," another kid said.

"You’re my favorite class," I told them.

I tell every class they are my favorite if they say I look young. So classes do comment on my youthfulness from time to time.

 

Teaching Year #21

 

That same morning, after playing my guitar and singing for a third grade class, one of the girls said, "You should be a YouTube singer."

 

"I'm too old for that."

 

"You could be the oldest one," another little boy said.

My third graders thought I was cool enough to be on YouTube. Winning.

 

 

That afternoon, a group of older students saw me as I was loading up my car to leave for the day. 

 

"Whoa, Mrs. Duggan, is that your car?!" one of the sixth girls exclaimed. "I thought music teachers only drove vans!"

 

"Not this music teacher!" I told her.

 

I was also wearing a black turtleneck that day, and one of my students said I looked like Steve Jobs. 

"Do you know who Steve Jobs was?" I asked him. I mean, the kid was eight.

"One of the founders of Apple," he replied

 

"Okay. Nice."

 

Really, I was going for more of a Beatnik vibe.

 

 

"You should probably write that one down," one of the other students said.

 

They must have figured out my blog post material secret . . .

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

What Will You Be For Halloween?

 

 

Last year, my husband, Dan, and I took a year off from Halloween. But this year, we were back, baby. Or to poorly quote a scary movie from my generation, "We're baaaack . . . !"

 

Music teachers love Halloween. They don't necessarily love the effects of the sugar consumed on Halloween, but the holiday lends itself to so many fun activities. I'm not sure any of my lessons for the rest of the year will live up to the standards of these past few days.

 

 

"Mrs. Duggan, what are you going to be for Halloween?" all, and I mean ALL, of my students asked me.

 

"I'm an adult without children of my own," I thought. "Do they really think I dress up to stay at home and hand out candy?"

 

Apparently (after seeing the myriad of Halloween costumes splashed across the timelines of my Facebook friends), people do this. Maybe I'm missing out.

Out loud, however, I answered the kids with, "I'm going dress up like a Mean Music Teacher: Evil Mrs. Duggan."

 

I almost added, "And she has a goatee," but I wasn't sure they would get the reference. 

 

 

On Halloween night, we weren't sure how many kids would show up at our house. It was a Sunday night, and it started to rain that afternoon. Plus, we're still living in a pandemic in Idaho where people just won't get the jab to save their lives (literally).

"Are we going to be stuck with this whole pumpkin of candy?" I asked as the rain started to fall.

"YES!" Dan answered a little too enthusiastically.

 

 

For a couple of years, it seemed like parents dropped their kids off in our neighborhood to trick-or-treat. We were one of the cool spots in town. This year, we ended up with about half of our candy left over, which was fine with Dan.

 

We watched The Muppets Haunted Mansion and passed out candy to the children who showed up.

 

There was an Elsa and a Harley Quinn and one I didn't recognize with a kooky skull mask who got very indignant when I asked if he was from a movie or a TV show.

 

"I am NOT from a movie!" he scoffed.

The Squid Game and Scream guys who came to our door as a pair were super polite.

 

"Thank you. Happy Halloween," they said.

I told one girl, "If you hold this candy wrapper under a light, it glows in the dark,"

 

"Mom, she gave us glow-in-the-dark candy!" I heard her as she ran down our walkway.

 

A couple of teens on roller blades and dressed in animal costumes showed up toward the end of our evening. Keep Boise awesome, you know.

 

For those of you still need of some major post Halloween cuteness, I will conclude with this.

 For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Still Surviving the School Year

The other day at work, I opened the door to my final class of the day, and one of the second graders greeted me with, "They're crazy today." 

 

That's never a good sign, I thought. 

 

Since August, I've gone home more than once feeling like the kids have forgotten how to be at school. Or maybe I have forgotten how to be at school. It has been almost two years since we've had a normal school year. And 2021 has been far from normal. 

 

 

We have managed to get a few fun things done:

 

One thing hasn't changed. I have a fifth grade student who enters my room, sits in his spot, and sneezes three times. Every. Single. Week. He has been doing this since kindergarten.

 

 

"I'm allergic to cats," he told me the other day. "Maybe it's Copy Cat's fault." 

 

Poor Copy Cat

 

Later, in a first grade class, I walked up the steps of my choir risers, and one of the little kids gasped. 

 

“Mrs. Duggan, you’re too heavy! You’re going to break the risers!” 

 

“Are you calling a woman HEAVY?!” I said with fake indignation.

 

He shrugged, “My mom is heavy too.” 

 

My face when a first grader calls me "heavy."

Also that day, I asked the sixth graders to hold their hands to the level of my chin for some weird reason. I don't remember why. 

 

"I hate to say it, Mrs. Duggan, but that's not hard to do," one of the students said. "You’re pretty small.”

 

At least this kid didn't say I was "heavy."

 

 

Some children have been trying to help with classroom behaviors. During a fourth grade class, I caught, out of the corner of my eye, two students pantomiming good seating behavior to one of the more fidgety kids in class. 

 

When he finally settled and sat with his hands in his lap in a way that satisfied the other two kids (their rule, not mine), the students fist-bumped surreptitiously, proud of their accomplishment. 

 

 

"Do you watch Squid Game?" the sixth graders asked me one day. 

"What is it? A video game? Anime? A TikTok thing?" I asked. 

Yes, I've been living under a rock. I am aware of Squid Game now. In my defense, this was a few weeks ago, before NPR aired anything about it. We older folks have to get our pop culture info from NPR, ya know. I still haven't watched it though.

 

 

"It's a TV show on Netflix. It's really good. But don’t watch it with your kids," the ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD said. 

 

(Um . . . )

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Mrs. Duggan's Hand Sanitizer Wars

 

I'm tired of hand sanitizer. Let me put this another way. I'm tired of the response I get from my students about hand sanitizer. And I'm waging war . . . in the kindest way possible. 

In the wake of this airborne pandemic, I am supposed to do two things as a music teacher whose classroom is swimming with 10 classes worth of aerosols everyday. 

1. Make sure the kids keep their masks on.

2. Sanitize. Sanitize. Sanitize.

 

 

Of course, since this virus is airborne, the mask thing is the priority.

 

But sanitizing isn't a terrible idea either. It enables us to safely play a lot of fun instruments and to work with manipulatives and props. I will probably continue this practice if COVID ever becomes a distant memory (LMAO, with Idaho's barely 50% vaccination rate). 

However, my students always have wonderful [sarcastic tone] and new things to say about the different hand sanitizers strategically stationed around my room.

 

I started using a hand spray because it's quick when I want the kids to pick up an object. Also, the gel was leaving their hands sticky, and the residue looked like eraser shavings on your skin. 

 

I have a foam kind that the kids and I really like, but it takes WAY TOO LONG to administer. I usually save that one for my personal use or as an incentive if a class is being really good. 

I have a few students who bring their own because they can't use the school-provided sanitizer. Okay, fine. No problem.

 

But back to my war. 

 

Certain students (older, of course), after complaining incessantly about the gel sanitizer last year, started making annoying comments about the spray.

 

 

 

"This smells like moldy bread" or "an old woman (whatever that means)" or "rotten bananas." 

 

It doesn't. It actually smells really nice, and keeps my room smelling fresh following classes of sweaty 6th graders. 

 

I tried explaining how disrespectful it was to walk into a classroom and announce that it smells bad, but this went in one ear and out the other. I mean, some of the kids got it, but there was still enough negativity to be obnoxious.

 

So the next time the classes entered my room, I gave candy to the kids who didn't complain. 

 

Now I hear things like, "You're a good singer" and "You're awesome at guitar" and "I like your shoes" and "Nice ponytail." 

 

 

Recently, I've even had a few students say, "This smells great!" to which I respond, "You're my new, favorite student!" 

Pretty soon in these classes, all of the kids are complimenting the smell of the hand sanitizer, and I am calling them all my favorite students.

Problem solved. Battle won . . . so far . . .  

 

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

I Can't Smile With My Mouth Closed

Friends, I can't smile with my mouth closed. A little while ago, my husband, Dan, and I updated our driver's licenses to the Star Card, and I came to the realization that I probably should stop smiling in my license photos. 

 

That's difficult for me. I have been conditioned to flash a toothy smile (and strike a pose) every time I'm near a camera.

In other words, "Smiling's my favorite," to quote one of my favorite Christmas movies. 

(It's Elf, by the way. If you didn't know that, WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING WITH YOUR LIFE?)

 

I knew the DMV only allows closed-mouth smiles, so I practiced in the mirror that morning. I thought I looked pretty good. Then I got my picture taken and ended up looking like a crazed soccer mom. And I don't have any children.

 

 

I knew what my picture looked like immediately because the DMV gave us temporary copies to take home until our real IDs arrived. 

 

"I look like a crazed soccer mom," I said. 

 

"Here's mine," Dan said.

 

I glanced at his and said without thinking, "You look like a serial killer." 

 

"You don't look like a crazed soccer mom, and I don't look like a serial killer."

"Wait, what? Did I say that out loud?" I said, realizing Dan was actually kind of proud of his photo, and he didn't want to look like a serial killer on a government issued form of identification.

 

 

"Also, should I have changed my height to five-three?" I asked, changing the subject. "I'm not really five-two." 

"Aren't you five-two and a quarter?"

 

"Five-two and a half."

"I think it's close enough." 

 

 

I know you were all dying to see my new crazed soccer mom look instead of this Bitmoji. Nice try. I'm not publishing my driver's license because you might be an identity thief lunatic. How do I know? 

 

You'll just have to take my word for it. The photo above is a much more flattering reproduction because . . . I can't smile with my mouth closed. Why would I want to? My teeth are nice and white, albeit slightly crooked in a quirky way. I might as well enjoy them while I still have them.

 

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

The Basketball Hoop in My House

 

My husband, Dan, is still working from home. 

One afternoon, I received this text from him: "If I'm not home when you get home, I'm probably packing up my cube at HP. We are moving cubes. I didn't get fired."

 

"That's a relief," I thought. "Thanks for clarifying." 

I was already home when Dan returned, his cubicle all packed up. He walked through the door, carrying a portable basketball hoop.

"What is happening?!"

"I've always had this at work," was his response."I won it for my March Madness bracket a few years ago."

After hearing stories about afternoons spent playing games with fellow employees or having team lunches at local breweries or attending company barbecues over the years, I'm not convinced they actually "work" at his job.

 

I left him alone while I fixed dinner.

 

A few minutes later, I heard something banging around in the office.

 

This is what I found.

 

"I'm good at this!" he announced. 

 

I turned and started to head back into the kitchen but was stopped by something hitting the back of my head.

"Aggh!"

 

"Sorry. I was going for the basket," he said, grabbing the Nerf ball, not sounding that sorry.

"Not very well, apparently," I said.

Now our house is filled with the sound of intermittent pounding coming from the office. And the door doesn't close all the way anymore, so that's awesome too. 

 

I ask you, does he really need one more distraction while working from home?

 

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Back to School: Fun Times

As promised last week, I still have a few more fun back-to-school stories. You're welcome.

 

Let's TikTok!

I don't actually have a TikTok account, but I told my upper grades that we were learning a "TikTok Dance" in order to get them to move. 

 

These preteens act so embarrassed about everything. But once you say, "It's going to be in a TikTok video," they are willing to do ANYTHING.

 

After we finished my awesome dance, one girl, new to our school, said, "My other music teacher never did this sort of thing at all." 

 

"Not every music teacher is as cool as me," I responded.

 

 

Spongebob Squarepants

I played a game with the 6th graders that involved tossing around a Spongebob ball. I'm not super familiar with Spongebob, but the Spongebob ball gives me some credibility with the kids. 

When the ball was tossed to one of my students, he sang out, "Krusty Krab Pizza!" and the rest of the class joined him in the jingle, "Is the pizza for you and me!" Then they all added, "Ka-Chow!” which is supposedly from the movie Cars. 

 

I guess they were mixing their media in that moment of spontaneity?

 

Copy Cat Does Yoga

When the second graders entered my room the other day, Copy Cat was sitting like this on my desk.

 

 

 

"Copy Cat is doing Downward Dog," one kid said.

 

The PreK Cart

I travel from class to class on a cart when I teach at the preschool on Thursdays. I turn on music as I walk down the hall and enter the classrooms, kind of like an ice cream truck. 

 

One of the teachers called it "Miss Becky's Traveling Show." I liked that!

 

 

Round of Applause

I was getting ready to transition to another activity after I sang (and rocked out on my guitar) the school song for one of my first grade classes. 

 

The kids were waiting patiently, and during the quick pause, one student said, “Wait, aren’t we forgetting something?!” and he started to applaud. 

 

The other kids started clapping with him, and I received a round of applause (for my mad guitar skills, obviously).

 

Music Class is Fun 

"Music is actually fun!" one of my fourth graders blurted out in the middle of class, with no prompting whatsoever. 

 

I don't think we were even doing anything particularly fun at that moment. 

"It’s my favorite special," another boy chimed in. 

Full disclosure: These two little boys can be naughty sometimes, but they must like music . . .

 

 

Will Justin Bieber See This?

I wanted to record a video of a cool rhythm thing my classes were learning last week. I mentioned I might post it on Instagram. One of the girls freaked out.

 

"She is worried Justin Bieber will see her," one of the boys said.

 

"Umm, Justin Bieber doesn't follow me on the Gram," I reassured the class.

 

"What if does see it, and he comments? That would be awesome!" another kid said.

 

"Don't get your hopes up. I only have like 130 followers," I said.

I asked the freaked out girl to record it for me, just in case Justin Bieber does, in fact, show up on my IG.

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.